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Pardon, gentles all, the flat unraised spirits that have dared on this unworthy scaffold to bring forth so great an object.

William Shakespeare

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William Shakespeare
Age: 51 †
Born: 1564
Born: April 26
Died: 1616
Died: April 23
Actor
Dramaturge
Playwright
Poet
Stage Actor
Writer
Stratford-upon-Avon
Warwickshire
Shakespeare
The Bard
The Bard of Avon
William Shakspere
Swan of Avon
Bard of Avon
Shakespere
Shakespear
Shakspeare
Shackspeare
William Shake‐ſpeare
Spirit
Pardon
Great
Flat
Flats
Spirits
Forth
Object
Scaffold
Objects
Dared
Bring
Unworthy

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I have shot mine arrow o'er the house And hurt my brother.
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Why, look you, I am whipp'd and scourg'd with rods, Nettled and stung with pismires[nettles], when I hear Of this vile politician, Bolingbroke.
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That, sir, which serves and seeks for gain, And follows but for form, Will pack, when it begins to rain, And leave thee in a storm.
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There is flattery in friendship.
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My father compounded with my mother under the Dragon's tail, and my nativity was under Ursa Major, so that it follows, I am roughand lecherous. Tut, I should have been that I am, had the maidenliest star in the firmament twinkled on my bastardizing.
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Beauty is bought by judgement of the eye.
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Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.
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Until I know this sure uncertainty, I'll entertain the offered fallacy.
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a young woman in love always looks like patience on a monument smiling at grief
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O' thinkest thou we shall ever meet again? I doubt it not and all these woes shall serve For sweet discourses in our times to come.
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O, how I faint when I of you do write, Knowing a better spirit doth use your name, And in the praise thereof spends all his might To make me tongue-tied speaking of your fame.
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I have lived long enough. My way of life is to fall into the sere, the yellow leaf, and that which should accompany old age, as honor, love, obedience, troops of friends I must not look to have.
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If we are mark'd to die, we are enow To do our country loss and if to live, The fewer men, the greater share of honour. God's will! I pray thee wish not one man more.
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And therefore, — since I cannot prove a lover, To entertain these fair well-spoken days, — I am determined to prove a villain, And hate the idle pleasures of these days.
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You are a tedious fool.
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Well, God's above all and there be souls must be saved, and there be souls must not be saved.
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God defend me from that Welsh fairy, Lest he transform me to a piece of cheese!
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what cannot be saved when fate takes, patience her injury a mockery makes
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